


Nylon: Chapter Two - "Home"

by ExtremistComics



Series: Nylon [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Aftercare, Anal, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Butt Plugs, Clothing Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Futanari, MILFs, Masturbation, Older Woman/Younger Woman, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Pantyhose, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Scent Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:21:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28019199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ExtremistComics/pseuds/ExtremistComics
Summary: A week after the first chapter, Beatrix invites Flora to her home for dinner. Flora is a bit overwhelmed by Bea’s opulent standard of living, and the enigmatic personality of her personal chef, but once dinner is over, the two share a night of passion, finally in the comfort of Bea’s home, that is just as kinky as before but quite a bit more tender.
Series: Nylon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1974739
Kudos: 10





	Nylon: Chapter Two - "Home"

Flora’s first intimate encounter with Beatrix Buck happened on a Wednesday. That Friday, she briefly pulled Flora into her office to explain to her that she wasn’t trying to string Flora along, but during working hours, they should keep things professional. Ms. Buck even asked Flora for permission to call or text her any other time, and Flora simply laughed. “I would appreciate you not calling me at 3 AM to go pick up your laundry,” Flora said, “but texting me a picture of your dick would be more than welcome, yes.” When it came to actual relationship matters, Bea always seemed like the one who was flustered and perplexed, Bea trying so hard not to scare the sensitive Flora away by doing too much or too little.

Over the next week, she had gotten scattered texts and calls from Bea late at night, at when Flora asked very nicely, some quite intimate images. Flora felt no need to do this hard-to-get dance, having gotten the clear impression that both women knew where they stood, and that they were pretty deep in it already, despite their efforts to keep things manageable. She understood Ms. Buck’s apprehension, though. She didn’t seem overly well-acquainted with the territory she was in. Lust at first sight was no surprise for Bea, but the other thing, that was a process, she was sure of it.

The next Friday, around 1 PM, Bea was at her desk. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Given her minimal social life, it was odd for this to happen during work hours, driving her to actually check it, rather than keeping her nose practically pressed against a computer screen fielding Ms. Buck’s endless avalanche of e-mails. To her surprise, it was a text from Bea. “Dinner at my place?” “Absolutely,” Flora typed. “Sure,” the message ended up reading, after Flora decided to dial it back a bit.

“Great, I’ll have my chef get in touch,” the next message said, followed by “Does 7 work for you?” and Bea’s home address, which Flora already knew by heart.

Flora had been dimly aware that Beatrix had a personal chef, among other extravagances, but the idea that she’d have a professional cook making the meal she’d just been invited to hadn’t occurred to her yet, and was somewhat intimidating. Flora’s head spun enough trying to comprehend being in a relationship with Bea simply by virtue of her staggering beauty and every other incredible thing about her. The fact that Bea was profoundly rich and, in some circles at least, even famous was too much to think about. Flora started to imagine Bea lavishing her with gifts and dragging her up into some new world of luxury and became a bit uncomfortable.

This was all broken surprisingly quickly by another text from an unknown number. “Hi, I’m Andie Cochrane, I’m Ms. Buck’s chef,” it said. “She said she’s having you over for dinner tonight, is there anything in particular you’d like?”

Far from a foodie, and suddenly hip-deep in a truly surreal situation, Flora decided to both dodge actually answering and play it cool by replying, “I’m up for whatever. Don’t go to any trouble, you know what you’re doing.” Yes, with that exact capitalization and punctuation.

The icon indicating that Andie was typing something came up for a few seconds, then went away again, then repeated this cycle a few more times before Flora received a reply saying simply “Okay.” A few seconds later, it was joined by “Do you have any allergies or things you don’t like?” Flora was more picky than she intended to let on, but was willing to move past a lot of that if the food was being prepared by a true master. “I’m not crazy about soup, and I hate onions. And I’m good with fish, but not really fishy fish,” Flora said, leaving out quite a bit more that she was afraid would out her as comparatively unsophisticated. For the sake of her sanity, it’s good that Flora didn’t see Andie read this text, grumble to herself that her usual handshake meal of vichyssoise and grilled sea bass was probably out of the question, and force herself to type out “Great” and a smiley face emoji. “I know exactly what to make,” she continued, “see you at 7.” Flora would have been less relieved by that exchange if she had heard Andie say it out loud and seen the look on her face.

Flora arrived at Bea’s home at 6:38. She did not intend to be early, but excess caution is its own peril. Bea didn’t seem bothered at all when she answered the door, immediately putting Flora in a hug she wasn’t expecting, though immediately being hit in the face with Beatrix Buck’s tits was a hell of a welcome. Bea was starved for affection from Flora after a week of only being around her in the presence of people who didn’t know they were together.

“This place is gorgeous,” Flora said, “but it’s a lot smaller than your old place.” “Oh, right,” Bea said, “you haven’t been here before.” Bea hesitated. “Old place?”

“The last time I had to take something to your house, it was that huge Wayne Manor looking place just off Henderson,” Flora said. “Oh,” Bea said, “that is my main residence, technically, yes. It’s just so far away from the office that I usually stay here. The BFM has been in my family for decades, but I really can’t stand having a hundred empty rooms around me. I feel like I’m about to be gangbanged by ghosts in wedding dresses.” Flora immediately intuited what BFM stood for, and it was legitimately surreal to hear Bea talk dismissively about owning a property the size of a cult compound with a goddamn castle on it. “I have a part-time maid that maintains it for when I need it, but we actually rent it out for events now just so it doesn’t go to waste,” Bea said like that’s not absolutely insane.

Bea led Flora through the living room. It was still quite large, and just about glowed with wealth like nuclear waste in a comic book, but Flora felt a lot less out of place here than she would have at fucking Elsinore. The whole place was conspicuously modern, all bare brutalist concrete and yuppie glass walls. Neither this place nor the old-world opulence of the BFM really fit Beatrix Buck, but it made an odd sort of sense that she owned both of them. “So you like the concrete glass cube more than the Citizen Kane house,” Flora said, looking around at a bunch of impractically stylish furniture that she correctly surmised had come with the house. “I’m not going to complain about the giant palace,” Bea said, trying to salvage some thread of humility, “but this place is more me, isn’t it?” “I don’t know what sort of place fits you,” Flora mused, “the Bradbury Building? What style is that? The whole thing, I mean, just for you.”

Bea failed to stifle a smirk. “I actually do know somebody on the board of the company that owns the Bradbury Building now,” Bea murmured sheepishly. “Oh my God,” Flora cackled, “that was a joke!” “I know!” Bea laughed, “You are not wrong to think this is all kind of crazy!” Bea was completely different at home, but there was a lot of middle ground to live in between her brusque business persona, her deliciously wicked domme mode, and the tender core she briefly let show when she was holding Flora in her arms after their impromptu rendezvous in her office. “You’ve never been funny with me before,” Flora said. “I knew you’d be funny.” “That’s the single most flattering thing anybody has ever said to me,” Bea said.

Leading Flora upstairs, Bea gave her a quick tour of the master bedroom. A queen bed with blood red silk sheets and two black pillows was exactly the spare-but-lush-but-menacing centerpiece Flora expected from Bea’s bedroom. This room was very Bea, which didn’t surprise Flora terribly, as the sorts of things that probably happened in here seemed to be Bea’s true passion. The dark, reddish wood floor was unadorned, in contrast to the broad, plush runners that spanned the hallway. There were small windows, rather than the giant glass walls dotting the rest of the building, and they were unencumbered by curtains. There was no television, no computer, not much of anything but a couple very modern dressers full of clothes. Next to one, there was a frameless, rectangular full length mirror, but another wall bore a large, oval mirror with an ornate gold frame that seemed to be purely decorative. Through the door to the bathroom, she could see a clawfoot bathtub. This nexus of old and new was unmistakably Beatrix.

“That closet there, that one doesn’t have clothes in it,” Bea said suggestively. “We’ll take a peek in there later, I’m sure.”

“There’s not a lot else to show,” Bea said as they returned to the living room. There was a lot more house, but it was not terribly surprising that Bea had little interest in a lot of it. “This is the dining room,” Bea said as she quickly led Flora past a surprisingly small dining table with four chairs, “and this is the kitchen.” Bea opened the door, and Flora immediately heard “Are you Flora? Come taste this. Sorry, Bea, I need your date for a second.” “I’ll leave you in the care of this maniac for a bit,” Bea said, closing the door as she walked away.

“Sorry I’m early,” Flora said. “I assume you’re Andie.” “I’m actually glad you’re here,” Andie said, “I wanted to make sure you were good with the meal. Taste this.” Andie was a little taller than Flora, with a figure that was hard to discern under her bulky chef’s whites. What immediately drew the eye was her long, fiery red hair, pulled back tight into a ponytail, and her thick-rimmed glasses. She held out a wooden spoon slick with a thick, orange-red sauce. Flora tasted it, and immediately abandoned any reservations she had about being cooked for by a private chef. “Oh my God,” she said. “I wanted to give it a good hit,” Andie said, “but I didn’t want to scorch your palate. I didn’t know if you do spicy, but I can tune the heat on this pretty precisely if I have to.”

“No, that’s amazing,” Flora said. “I feel kinda bad that you’re going to all this trouble, actually.” Andie looked around at the kitchen a bit with a bemused grin, and just said, “Really?” Returning the spoon to the pot to stir, she said, “This is, like, two pots, and one of them is just jasmine rice, this is nothing.” Flora looked around at the wreckage of what looked like two hours of prep work and tried to recalibrate her notions of what constituted a great effort in the kitchen for somebody like Andie.

“What is it?” Flora asked, looking into what she felt was a needlessly large pot for two people. “It’s not exactly chicken tikka masala, but it’s vaguely similar,” Andie said. “I wanted to do something you probably didn’t eat every day, but you also struck me as a meat-sauce-rice kind of girl.” Flora didn’t know what to do with the tone of mild condescension with which she said that, but she wasn’t wrong. “Do you think it needs anything?” Andie asked. Flora affected a thoughtful expression for a second before positing, “Cumin?” Andie broke out into another smug smirk, staring directly at Flora for the length of a pregnant pause, and said simply, “Alright.” “What?” Flora asked. “Nothing,” Andie chuckled, “you’re absolutely right.” Flora was a little flummoxed, uncertain if she was being mocked, and definitely not certain why. Andie was a hard one to reckon with. Bea was intimidating, but Flora had spent the last four years or so relentlessly sexualizing the way Bea intimidated her. Andie was just subtly terrifying, but in the most baffling way, like a king cobra in your shower that turns out to be rubber, then explodes.

Flora came back out into the living room, and Bea was sitting on the couch, TV running Spotify for background music as an escalating rattle of metal and murmured profanity slowly intensified in the kitchen and dining room. Flora sat next to Bea, laying her head on Bea’s shoulder, Bea resting her hand gently on Flora’s thigh. Nothing was said, the silence between them its own exchange of adorations. Then “Building a Mystery” by Sarah McLachlan came on, and Flora laughed, prompting a quiet “Shut the fuck up” from Bea. Their shared giggling was itself broken by Andie stepping away from the set table toward the couch to, somehow, stand at attention sarcastically, and declare, “Cogito, ergo dinner.”

Bea and Flora sat down at adjacent, rather than facing, chairs, and dug into the plates laid before them with an almost lustful glee. The food was truly wonderful, again tempering Flora’s slight discomfort at being pampered. As Andie was about to retreat into the kitchen, Bea stopped her to say, “This is amazing.” Looking directly at Flora, Andie managed to say “Thank you. It’s the cumin” without quite laughing.

“She’s a real enigma, isn’t she?” Bea said. “I am so glad you said that,” Flora said. “That woman is, maybe, an actual genius, but she scares the living shit out of me.” “I literally bid on her,” Bea said. “I had to beat somebody else’s offer. She is very good. And I think she might be a murderer. She has that look in her eyes.”

Flora only wanted one thing in the entire world more than she wanted to keep making amusing small talk with a woman she had previously known only as a business goddess, a ravenous sex fiend, or a surprisingly tender lover, and that was to know where they stood in their budding relationship, and where it might be headed.

“I can’t thank you enough for finally letting down that…that wall you had sort of built around all this, and actually asking me on a date,” Flora said, trying to maintain eye contact intently enough that Bea could see her smile sincerely as she said that. “I never felt like you were casting me aside or anything, I was just worried that you felt like things were moving too quickly.”

“Oh, they definitely are,” Bea said, “but I’m deciding I’m going to let that happen, I think. I think you’re worth tearing my entire heart out and laying it on the table. I’m not afraid of that right now.” Her smile turned a little bit further up at the sides. “I’m Beatrix fucking Buck, after all, I’m not scared of anything, right?”

“I’m very glad to hear all that,” Flora said. “I feel exactly the same way.”

“I do think we should keep things a bit casual for now,” Bea added, “go on actual dates, like we’re a couple crazy kids hitting up the malt shop and the drive-in, you know, pretend we didn’t splatter the carpet in my office with cum stains seconds after our hands first touched. It wouldn’t hurt to actually get to know the parts of each other we don’t put clothes over to go to the grocery store.”

“I am beyond fine with that,” Flora said. “This is probably the second best day of my decade so far. A distant second, for the moment, but it’s pretty nice.”

Bea’s expression slacked a bit. She suddenly felt compelled once again to temper the enthusiasm she loved so much in Flora, in spite of herself. “I just need you to understand, since we’re having this conversation, that I don’t really do exclusive.”

“I get that,” Flora said, “we’re not there yet.” “I know,” Bea said, “but that’s not exactly what I mean. We might never get there. I don’t know if I have a ‘there.’ I don’t really do that.”

“Oh,” Flora said. “I don’t think that’s a problem.” Bea was a little incredulous. “You’re sure about that?” she asked. “If I ever do feel any kind of way about that, trust me, you will know,” Flora said. “But your entire world feels like I just stepped out my front door and I was on another planet. You are a whole new world for me. I have made some peace with not knowing where the hell I am, and just going along for the ride.” Flora stuck out her hand and grasped Bea’s gently. “I’m not sure I’ve ever really known what I wanted,” Flora said, “except you. I want you to be there when I start to figure out who I am, but I’m not there yet. I don’t need assurances and promises right now, all I need to know is that you’ll come with me as far as you can.”

“That’s beautiful,” Bea said. “If you can follow me, I will do everything I can to follow you.”

Flora smiled, but after a few seconds of silence, she said, “Are you seeing anybody else right now?”

“Define seeing,” Bea asked. “I have a healthy number of women I’m good friends with who, occasionally, I’m more than friends with. It’s not a relationship, but we’re very free with our desires, and we sometimes like to have some fun together.”

“How many is a good number?” Flora said, trying to keep her tone of voice clear of any hint of jealousy. She was not bothered by this, but she was pretty sure Bea was assuming she was.

“Andie?” Bea cried out toward the kitchen door. “Come in here a second.” Andie came through the door in dish gloves, her hair let down from its ponytail. There was considerably more of it than Flora had assumed, and it flew off her head in a frizzy expanse in a way that was wild but not unkempt. “Yes?” she practically sung.

“You do have such a refined palate,” Bea said, “and I was hoping you could compare notes with my darling Flora here about how my cock tastes.” Flora undertook a concerted effort not to spit out her drink.

“As magical as it is in so many ways,” Andie said, “I’m not going to do that porn, romance novel thing, where I say it tastes like apple pie, or fucking moonlight. It tastes like dick. Is that all?” “Yes, we’ve got it from here,” Bea said. Andie mock-saluted and went back into the kitchen.

“I am frankly amazed you put your dick anywhere near that,” Flora said. “She’s hot, but there is something loose in there.” “She’s actually great,” Bea said, “once she knows you’re worth talking to she drops a bit of the prima ballerina routine and the hedge maze of snark.” “What if I’m not worth talking to?” Flora asked. “You should probably read the first couple Palahniuk novels and watch Mulholland Drive,” Bea said, “that should just about take care of it.”

“The thing that’s going to take some getting used to is,” Flora said, unsure how to articulate it, “this.” She gestured generally around the room. “All of this. It’s so much.” “I’m glad we’re here, then, and not at Stately Wayne Manor,” Bea said. “I’m serious, though, it’s not just that you have the money, it’s what it means for us.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Bea said. “I used to feel a little guilty and spoiled when a girl took me to fucking Carrabba’s,” Flora laughed, “what is the equivalent of that for you? Buying me a car?”

“So you’re going to feel like a whore if I do something nice for you? I get that, I know how to handle that. I’ve been doing this a long time,” Bea said. “It’s not that. I mean, yeah, I could feel like you’re trying to buy my affection, I guess, but you know how little you have to do to have me completely melt into a puddle at your feet, so I doubt that’s going to be a problem. The thing is, I know you’re kind of pulling yourself two ways here, I know you really want this to happen, I believe that, and you also don’t want it to happen all at once. I know if you let yourself fall head-over-heels for me, I’m going to wake up with a helicopter on the roof of my building waiting to take me to Tahiti or some shit. Then you’re going to see what you’re doing, and you’re going to feel like you’ve gone totally crazy, and you’re going to go running even further the other way.”

“Flora,” Bea said, “I promise I am not going to fly you away to Paris for Sunday brunch for our second date, but you need to understand that if I did, that would feel like the single least crazy thing I’d ever done, because you really deserve that.”

Bea and Flora looked once again into each other’s eyes, then Bea started to suck her bottom lip, her eyes darting slightly away from Flora. “I imagine now would be a bad time to mention you have an appointment with my tailor tomorrow,” Bea said. Flora’s mile-wide grin of you-owe-me-for-this-one disbelief was immediate. “Listen,” Bea said, “I knew exactly how out of your element you would feel once I dragged you into all…this. I figured you would feel more comfortable in my surroundings if you felt like you looked the part, instead of having that ‘but I have nothing to wear’ moment and feeling totally out of place. I get all that, and I want you to feel like you belong here, because you belong anywhere I am.”

“You are so, so lucky,” Flora said, “that I know deep in my heart that you’re not actually being condescending when you say you’re worried I wouldn’t want to be seen in public with you, which is something you don’t even seem to want, wearing my poor people clothes, and I’d feel much better if you dressed me like your glamorous trophy wife.”

“Do you think I don’t want to be seen with you?” Bea asked, sounding truly concerned. “I want you to be part of my life. I think we should manage how people find out about us, for the moment, since, you know, you work for me, but we’re not going to be sneaking off to fuck in broom closets, or pretending you’re my strange foreign cousin who’s staying with me, or any other sitcom shit, you are going to be there, you are going to be part of my life. That’s what I want us to be.”

Bea and Flora were nowhere near full when they stood up, left behind their plates of delectable food, Bea sticking her head into the kitchen to tell Andie they were done for the night, and hurried purposefully upstairs. Flora was concerned when Bea didn’t bother closing the door behind them on the way into her bedroom, knowing that Andie was still in the house, perhaps even the dining room, where there was little to muffle any sound between them, the staircase, and the adjoining living room. As she fell back onto the bed, Bea falling onto her in a landslide of deep kisses and wandering hands, she immediately forgot these petty matters.

“I don’t want to fuck you tonight,” Bea said, “I want to make love to you.” The first time Bea and Flora experienced each other, they agreed that they’d be unable to handle the tide of emotion that they’d feel having sex face to face, Flora bending over Ms. Buck’s desk so she could mount her like an animal, an eager living hole Bea could use to squeeze out a much-needed load. They were both ready now. “I want that very much,” Flora said, collecting herself just enough to lend the proper composed, pleading desire to her signature opener, “How can I help you, Ms. Buck?”

“I would absolutely love to just lube it up and stick it in,” Bea said, “but you do seem the type who wants at least a little foreplay. Tell me what you want.”

“What do you want to do to me?” Flora asked. “I’m all yours.”

“Tell me what turns you on,” Bea said. “You know what I want,” Flora said, “I want you to have your fun with me however you want. I belong to you right now.”

“Oh,” Bea said, “you want the kinky shit. That’s not what I meant, but that’s fine with me.” “You saw how much I loved the kinky shit,” Flora laughed, “and we’re not in your office now, you can do any sick thing you want to me here. Didn’t you think I’d want the full Beatrix Buck experience?”

“I thought we were doing that for me,” Bea said, “you didn’t seem like you’d ever done that sort of thing before. I was showing you what I liked to make sure you were okay with it, and I was thrilled when you were turned on by it, but…”

“But you thought I was just doing it for you,” Flora said. “I would have let you do anything to me. I would have. But that feeling of being totally devoted to you, being your little toy, it was…it almost wasn’t sex, it was something else. I felt like part of you. I felt wanted in a way I never, ever have. I never want to stop feeling that way. If you just want to hold me down and stick it in, do it. If you want to tie me up, I will love that just as much. I am yours, completely. I want to be.”

“Well, in that case,” Ms. Buck said with a devious grin, standing up and taking a step back, “stand up straight. Don’t move.”

Flora stood up, and Bea began unbuttoning Flora’s blouse. When she was done, she gently lifted it off her shoulders, folded it, and placed it carefully atop the dresser nearest the bed. Bea knelt down before Flora. “Foot,” she said, and Flora lifted her right foot. Bea removed Flora’s shoe, set it down, and gave Flora’s socked foot a loving rub. “Other one,” Ms. Buck said sharply, and removed Flora’s other shoe, standing up to carry the pair away, setting them just so at the foot of the dresser. Bea stepped back up to Flora, undoing her pants, and sliding them down, Flora taking a step back to free herself from them. Bea folded them with the same care and placed them atop Flora’s blouse.

Ms. Buck turned back to Flora and hooked her thumbs into Flora’s panties. “Panties first, then the bra, and the socks stay on, remember?” Bea deliberately said in precisely the voice of a school nurse giving a physical. Flora nearly shivered, and immediately sprouted a noticeable obstruction to Bea being able to pull down her panties. “Flora,” Ms. Buck scolded with mock disgust, “are you getting an erection?” In one motion, Ms. Buck dropped into a deep squat and pulled Flora’s panties clear to her ankles. “You are! And what exactly do you think you’re doing with that, little lady?” Flora was stone still, and Bea had to tap the side of Flora’s ankle to prompt her to step out of her panties. Bea stood up, shaking her head disapprovingly. “You are being a very naughty girl,” she said, holding Flora’s crumpled panties to her nose for a protracted inhale before unfurling them again, folding them properly, and laying them with the rest.

Ms. Buck stepped back toward Flora once more, getting in very close, subtly tilting her back to ensure that her breasts were exactly level with Flora’s face as she wrapped her arms around Flora’s back to unhook her bra. She heard poorly-stifled whimpering coming from within her cleavage. “We’re going to have to make sure Andie fattens you up a bit, so I can send you out to get some bigger bras,” Bea said, lifting Flora’s bra off past her raised arms. Flora was certainly skinnier than Ms. Buck typically liked her women, but Bea found her stunningly beautiful in her own way, her slender frame both complimenting her sweet, innocent demeanor and contrasting her secret inner strength wonderfully. Ten pounds or so wouldn’t hurt, though, Bea thought. When Flora lowered her arms, she instinctively covered her body, her face suddenly downcast. “Yeah,” Flora said, “I’ve always been too skinny. I hate it.”

“I was joking,” Bea said, abruptly dropping her bad bitch voice. “You are nothing but beautiful, sweetie. I’m so sorry. I was just…I’m sorry. You know how sexy I’ve always thought you are, right?” Bea embraced her, giving her a kiss on the forehead, but what truly comforted Flora, aside from the tits that were once again squeezed around her head, was the word “always.”

Flora had sort of accepted what she considered the absurd improbability that Beatrix Buck would be attracted to her, but her mid reeled at the thought that she always had. They had known each other, to varying extents, for about four years. Flora hand spent much of that time fantasizing about the divine Ms. Buck, but even now, in that very goddess’ embrace, she could barely handle the idea that Bea had always been attracted to her. How long had she been waiting for Flora to make a move? Had she been fantasizing about her herself? It was like the movie star who gave you your first erection showing up at your house when you were grown up to confess they somehow knew who you were, and had always had a crush on you. It was too much to even contemplate, Flora contenting herself with just sinking into the loveliest bosom she had ever seen.

Bea set the bra aside with the rest, turned around, and finally got a good look at Flora. She was trying to be a good doll, but could barely stand up straight without her knees buckling with arousal. Bea, fully clothed, was still a hell of a thing to behold herself. When she had gotten home, she had taken off her blazer and heels, but was still wearing the sleeveless blouse, the short, tight skirt, the retro but heart-stopping cat-eye glasses, and the pantyhose, those fucking pantyhose. Being almost fully nude while Ms. Buck looked at her in almost her full business sex goddess regalia made Flora feel like she was back in that office, blinds closed, kneeling before Ms. Buck with her ankles on her shoulders, waiting for her every command.

Ms. Buck turned around, opened one of the top drawers of the dresser, and pulled out a blindfold. “Remember: if you want me to slow down and make sure you’re alright, say ‘yellow.’ If you want me to stop immediately, say ‘red.’”

“Yes, Ms. Buck,” Flora practically moaned. Beatrix laid the blindfold across her eyes and secured it, then guided Flora onto the bed and had her lie on her back. “Jerk your little dick for me,” Bea said. “Do you want me to finish?” Flora asked. “When you have my permission to blow a big fat load for me, you will know,” Ms. Buck teased.

Flora was momentarily disappointed that this was all Bea wanted for the moment, but the brand new experience of doing even this blindfolded was surprisingly stimulating. She felt almost removed from her own body, like she was just a cock being played with. She still craved that feeling, though, of handing over control. Doing this, Bea might as well not be there. That changed when she felt Ms. Buck’s hand gently touch the inside of her thigh. The unexpected stimulus and the sudden encouragement made her come to life. “She’s gotten very good at pulling on her dick,” Ms. Buck said, “I think I know what this perverted little thing wants.”

The bed shifted as Bea climbed onto it, Flora unsure at first what she was doing. Ms. Buck’s knees landed at the sides of Flora’s head, Beatrix’ nylon-wrapped thighs and panty-covered crotch pressing gently onto her face as Bea knelt above her. The scent of Ms. Buck filled Flora’s head, her hips beginning to involuntarily buck until she was less stroking herself and more fucking her own hand. Flora felt so tempted, with Bea’s cock and balls pressed against her even through her panties, to lick and suck whatever she could get her mouth around, but knew she had not been asked to, and didn’t want to get her unexpected reward pulled away. She just took the most luxurious gulps she could manage of the distinct smell of her lover, even slowing her stroking for fear that Ms. Buck’s rapturous musk would make her prematurely bust if she didn’t control herself.

“Look at me treating you like you’re a top, and not a devoted vessel for my cock,” Bea said, finally dismounting. “Stop touching it, I have something better for you.” Flora obeyed, putting her arms to her side. Ms. Buck returned from the closet that did not have clothes in it, and put something in Flora’s hand for her to feel its shape. Flora, not the most experienced practitioner of the erotic arts, was a little puzzled. “This is a plug, but it’s designed to stimulate your prostate directly,” Bea said, intuiting Flora’s confusion from the look on her face. “At medium vibration, without touching yourself, it should keep you just at the edge pretty much forever, if I let it.” Bea held Flora’s hand, palm upward with the toy in it, and Flora felt a cold plop of lube, which Flora dutifully rubbed all around the item. She felt Bea pick it up, and immediately spread her legs and lifted her butt. “Very good,” Ms. Buck said, “I’ve got you good and slutted up already, haven’t I?”

The plug was not that big, and went inside even Flora with no fuss. The plug’s base was a skinny bar that jutted backward a bit, but a few inches forward as well, laying perfectly along her perineum and jutting just under her balls. She was unsure why this was necessary until Bea turned it on, and the vibrations not just inside her but running up the outside were absolutely heavenly. Flora had never paid much attention to any part of herself except her dick and sometimes her ass, but she was being gently pleasured in places she’d never given much attention, and decided she’d have to remember how much she apparently enjoyed a little ball play. The vibration along her taint paired with the less subtle prostate prodding happening right under it made her feel, when she let it wash over her, a little like she had a vagina.

Flora was indeed raised pretty quickly to the verge of an orgasm, but the sensation definitely plateaud. It was frustrating, but the feeling of having even her body’s involuntary processes firmly in Ms. Buck’s control was exhilarating. Flora knew that if she gave her cock even one pump, she’d lose it, but it wasn’t actually hard to stop herself. This excruciating precipice was right where Beatrix wanted her, and if Ms. Buck wanted it, she wanted it.

She felt the bed shift again, as Bea lay down at her side. Ms. Buck grabbed Flora’s hand, placing it on her breast. Bea had evidently taken off at least her shirt and her bra. Flora let out a short, loud groan, almost worried that even this might send her over the edge. She felt Bea’s hand caress her cheek, then press slightly, signaling Flora to turn her head. Beatrix all but shoved her nipple into Flora’s mouth, but once Flora knew what she was being told to do, the last thing Bea needed to do was make her do it.

Flora turned completely onto her side, into nearly a fetal position, laying her hand on the side of Bea’s chest to hold herself onto Ms. Buck so she could suck vigorously at her breast. She was gentle at first, but eventually her tight control over her demeanor began to slip, and she was sucking with full force, her cheeks pulling in on themselves, a good amount of Ms. Buck’s breast flesh finding itself pulled fully into Flora’s mouth. This was instinct, not a choice. Flora could have done this forever.

Bea’s cock pressed with full force against the panties she was still wearing, and she couldn’t stop the faint whimpers she was letting out. She was as much in Flora’s thrall at the moment as Flora was in hers. Bea had never been with somebody who was as infatuated with everything about her as Flora. Flora’s desire for her was almost less romantic or sexual than addictive. Bea felt sometimes that the real reason Flora wanted to be dominated was that if Flora were in charge, she’d have absolutely no idea what to do with her. Flora felt, still, like she didn’t deserve Bea. The only way she would accept Bea’s affection was to have it rammed down her throat.

Flora stopped suckling quite abruptly, and her arms began scrambling before she gathered her thoughts enough to reach back to her butt and remove the plug. Once it was out, she was positively gasping for air, like she was afraid the thing was about to burrow into her and pop out of her chest like a baby alien.

“Are you alright?” Bea asked. “I was…fuck, I’m sorry,” Flora stuttered, “I, I was about to cum. I didn’t want to take it out without you saying I could, but I thought that…well, I thought it would be worse if I…”

“You disobeyed my orders so you could obey my orders,” Ms. Buck said, slipping back into her teasing, sultry tone. “Well, what do I do about that?”

“What,” Flora sputtered, “what should I do when…”

“Well,” Bea said, “the correct thing to do would be to keep holding back your little nut like you’re supposed to, but we’ll work on that. I suppose if you absolutely couldn’t keep control of your spunk-sodden little balls anymore, though, then you made the right choice. I’m going to have to reward you and punish you at the same time. Lie back.”

Bea took the plug from Flora, walked to the bathroom to clean it off, came back, and knelt at the end of the bed, between Flora’s legs.

“I think I know exactly how to do that,” Ms. Buck gloated. Flora felt warmth. Bea had slipped Flora’s cock into her mouth, which Flora was acutely aware was a new one for them. Flora had no idea what was about to happen, and the answer was nothing. Bea held Flora’s cock in her mouth, but made no effort to stimulate her beyond that.

“W-what,” Flora barely managed to ask, “what are you doing, mistress?” “Nothing at all,” Beatrix moaned, “I’m just going to sit here with your cock in my mouth, doing nothing at all. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Thank you, Ms. Buck,” Flora immediately responded. The sensation was certainly nice, but Flora had trouble focusing on that and not what she could be getting instead. Flora relaxed, trying to let herself be in the moment and appreciate the light pressure of Bea’s plump lips at her base, the warmth and slight moisture inside, even the idea alone that she was inside Ms. Buck’s mouth, whether she got to see it or not.

Within a minute, though, Flora was squirming. She knew that if she begged and pleaded enough, offered anything in the world in return, she might get Bea to do the deed properly. But that wasn’t her job. Her job was to await Ms. Buck’s commands.

She felt Bea’s mouth lift off her. “Is there something else you want, Flora?” Beatrix needled in her loving but sinister domme voice. “I’m only here to obey you, Ms. Buck,” Flora said. She knew the game. “Good girl, very good,” Bea said. Bea’s weight departed the bed, and a second later, Flora heard the distinctive sound of Ms. Buck’s sizeable cock being slathered with lube. Bea stepped toward her again, and Flora felt Bea slap the excess lube on her hand onto Flora’s own, adequately sized but comparatively dainty prick, giving her a few quick rubs as a treat. Once Bea’s hands were mostly degreased, Flora’s eyes suddenly had to adjust to the light as her blindfold was removed. Opening her squinting eyes, she saw Bea, clad only in her pantyhose, evidently having worn a crotchless pair all day, presumably just for this moment. “Would you rather leave the blindfold on, actually? It’s a lot of fun,” Bea asked. “Absolutely not,” Flora said, correctly intuiting their power play had been gently set aside for the time being. “I want that moment now. I want to look in your eyes.”

Bea began to pull down her pantyhose, and Flora quickly said, “Leave those on.” Bea smiled, looking down at a woman who gazed at her like she was the only woman in the world. “I know, but…next time. Right now, I…I want you to see me,” Bea said. Bea turned around, pulling her nylons down slowly, giving Flora her first unadulterated glimpse at Bea’s plump butt as she removed them, bending over at little as possible as not to spoil the view. She heard Flora let out a tiny gasp. Bea’s butt, uncovered, had a slight sag to its heft, scattered stretch marks and cellulite dotting it and her large thighs. When she moved, it had less the “Jell-O on springs” bounce of Marilyn Monroe and more the loose jiggle of water, each impact reverberating across the whole thing rather than a quick superball bounce before springing right back to a high, tight, athletic curve the way a big butt does on an Instagram fitness model.

“It’s exactly what I imagined,” Flora squeaked quietly to herself. This was a woman’s body. Bea turned, and Flora saw her full majesty for the first time. Without the waist-high pantyhose, Bea’s slight belly stuck out a little more, and hung lower than before. Flora was still not quite certain how old Beatrix was, but she likely looked her age, not like a 35-year-old porn star with a spray tan who’s marketed as a “MILF” just because she doesn’t look even younger or weigh a hundred pounds. Flora was not deluding herself. She really hadn’t wanted Bea to look any other way under her silk designer battle armor. Flora doubted she could convince even the endlessly confident Ms. Buck of this, but this was exactly her fantasy. She was living it.

“As much as I love them,” Flora said instead, “you’re still wearing your glasses, and I’ve never really seen your face.”

Bea laughed. “Be right back,” she said, “I can’t see shit without these.” Bea skipped off to the bathroom to put in the contacts she rarely used, accurately assessing that the glasses were an essential part of The Look.

When Bea returned, she had also let her hair down from its bun. Flora finally saw her as she was, losing no appreciation for the full Beatrix Buck experience, of which the aesthetic bordering on costume was a key part, but giddy with joy at the unvarnished sight of this exquisite woman. “You’re beautiful,” Flora said, tears already starting to condense like dew on her eyes. Bea descended on her quickly, pressing the tip of her cock into place, but being sure to keep eye contact with Flora. Restraining her all-consuming lust, Bea was gentle, though it didn’t take as much work this time to slide inside Flora.

Flora’s moans sounded overwhelmed, but not uncomfortable or pained. It was likely emotion as much as anything physical, Bea was sure. Bea slipped all the way inside. “Are you okay?” she asked. “It’s perfect,” Flora said.

Careful to hold her gaze, Bea began to thrust. Flora, desperate for just a little of that surrender, put her hands above her head, prompting Bea, with no overt communication, to grab her wrists, Flora lowering her arms a bit to make sure Bea was still able to prop herself up sufficiently without losing her grip on Flora’s arms. “You want it a little faster?” Bea asked, sensing Flora’s desire to be taken. “What was that, Ms. Buck?” Flora giggled. “I said, do you want me to hold you down and fuck you as hard as I can, little lady?” Bea groaned in the appropriate tone. “Please, Ms. Buck,” Flora cooed, lifting her legs as far back and as far apart as she could.

Thanks to Bea’s preference for ample lubrication, this was an easy task even with Flora. Bea left all caution behind, and began giving Flora every bit of power she could, but as she continued to stare into Flora’s ecstatic eyes, her face kept its adoring look, never taking on the savage fury Beatrix could lapse into when she was giving it her all. That expression took on a hue of surprise when Flora’s cock began to spurt onto her own petite tits, Flora screaming her heart out, once again becoming acutely aware for a second that the bedroom door was open and Andie was still in the house.

“Keep going,” Flora said, “please, keep going.” Bea was prematurely starting to feel the first twinges herself, and definitely needed no encouragement to continue. Bea concentrated on holding back, a skill she had mastered, but rarely felt the need to employ. Flora began to look uncomfortable. “Are you still good?” Bea asked. “I…” Flora let out between heavy breaths.

Bea let her control flag a little, worried that Flora’s post-orgasmic state might be making her a little too sensitive for the pounding she was taking, knowing the obliging Flora might just tough it out. “I’m getting close,” she said. Flora, who had momentarily turned her head to the side, was not squirming because of any physical sensation. She looked back into Bea’s eyes.

“I love you,” Flora said quietly. Bea’s face became markedly less composed, and Flora’s welling tears started to creep onto her face, petrified that she had ruined this moment. Seconds before Bea knew she was going to pass the point of no return, she managed to get herself to break the tension.

“I am absolutely…I am utterly, unbearably in love with you, Flora,” Bea said. “I am lost in you.” Bea hit her tipping point and swiftly surrendered, punctuating her long-awaited declaration with moans much higher-pitched and louder than she usually permitted to escape her lips even at the point of orgasm.

Bea fell forward onto Flora, their gulping breaths harmonizing, their sweat-slick flesh kissing with as much desperate desire as their lips began to the moment their strength returned. They sat in this makeshift embrace, unmoving, for several minutes before they could bear to break it.

Bea held Flora tenderly, spooning her from behind in a way they hadn’t gotten a chance to before. Bea’s tall, broad body made Flora feel safely swaddled. “I’m sorry I sort of put you on the spot,” Flora eventually said, uttering what she now realized were the first words either had spoken since. “You know I was dying to say it,” Bea said, “and we both know you were always going to say it first.” Flora felt another sentiment creep up her throat, but managed to stifle her desire to say that she had wanted to say it since that first time in the office. “I’m used to things getting very intense very quickly,” Bea said. “Oh,’ Flora said with a hint of disappointment, feelings perhaps less special. “I don’t mean emotionally,” Bea quickly clarified, “usually it happens fast, but only physically. I’m not saying I’ve never…” Bea found herself hesitating, but realized there was no longer any need to. “I’ve been in love before, obviously, but usually it’s a long process, and it’s sort of separate from the physical stuff. I think the reason we’ve had the spark so quickly is that the physical part, it’s been very emotional with us. That’s you. It’s me too, but only when somebody brings it out in me like that.”

“So you’re alright with this,” Flora said, “you’re alright with this love-at-first-sight thing.”

“Oh, it’s absolutely terrifying,” Bea laughed, “but I can’t bring myself to try to cool you off anymore when I have to admit to myself that I’ve felt exactly the same way about you.”

“Past tense,” Flora said. “That’s present perfect,” Bea noted, “but yes.”

“How long?” Flora asked. “I wasn’t in love with you all that time,” Bea said, narrowly avoiding phrasing it in a way that let it slip that she was in love with her the first time too, “not for years and years, no, but I always thought you were cute.” Flora positively melted.

“But you wanted me to make the first move,” Flora said. “You were almost waiting a long fucking time on that one. You should have just told me.”

“You wouldn’t have been able to handle it if it wasn’t your idea,” Bea said. “You would have blushed and stuttered and let it slip away.” “I would,” Flora said. “I just wish I had made the first move a lot sooner. Did you ever…”

“What?” Bea said. “Did you ever think about me?” Flora asked. “I just said I’d noticed you, yeah, I always thought you were sexy in your quiet secretary way.” “No,” Flora said, “I mean, did you think about me?”

“Did I fantasize about you?” Bea said. “You did, about me, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did,” Flora said. “At this point I was barely ever thinking about anybody else.” “Really,” Bea said, “now I do feel bad that I made you wait. I have thought about you, actually. Fantasized, I mean, about calling you into my office, having you come close to me to do some made-up task, gently putting a hand somewhere just inappropriate enough for you to know what I wanted.”

“You mean call me in, tell me to close the blinds, and stand up to show me your dick was hanging out, then I immediately drop to my knees and blow you,” Flora said. “That too,” Bea said, “but I don’t know if that would have worked on a nice girl like you.”

“It absolutely would have,” Flora chuckled.

“Yeah,” Bea said, “for the past year or so I’ve been thinking about you a lot more.” Flora thought about how obsessed she had been with Bea for the past year. Maybe there was some fleeting glance, some moment between them neither had consciously noticed, but that sparked something in both of them. Or maybe they had both gotten blackout drunk at the Christmas party, fucked in the bathroom, and forgotten about it, but the first thing seemed more likely.

“You know I am absolutely going to spoil you, right?” Bea said after a short silence. “I need you to try not to feel like a whore or a gold digger when I do, because it’s going to happen. I trust you aren’t going to panic that things are moving too fast and bolt, but I want to know you can handle this. Random brunch in Paris is actually not a massive deal for me, and I know you get that.”

“Bea,” Flora said, “if you keep fucking me like that you could spend all that money on an engagement ring tomorrow and I wouldn’t bat an eye.” “That’s the spirit,” Bea said. The two closed their eyes, finally out of caveats and provisions to present each other with before they could be comfortable letting this happen the way it was, and in minutes they’d drifted off to sleep.


End file.
